Styrofoam Plates
by four51
Summary: RT. Rory has a boyfriend and is cheating on him with Tristan. She develops a little something more than just physical attraction.
1. Steadier Footing

"No," she protested, standing from the bed, a blanket wrapped around her, picking up his clothes and handing them to him.

"He's not coming over for another hour!"

"Tristin, I need you to understand. Please, I can't have him find out."

"Why won't you leave him?"

The question surprised her; she had never thought he would ask such a thing. They had been having their fling behind his back for about a month now, and she thought Tristan was okay with it, for the most part. He never showed any sign of hurt and never talked about her breaking up with Mychal. Though she had thought about it, she wasn't sure Tristan would actually be willing to commit to her.

"I…" she tried to form words.

He quickly got dressed while she stared at the floor with a blank expression on her face. "Don't worry about it," he shook his head. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

With that, he left, leaving her in mental discomfort. She _didn't_ know why she didn't leave Mychal. Sure, he had never treated her badly, never made her _want_ to cheat on him, but he was just so god damn _boring_. He was the perfect boyfriend, always agreeing to what she had to say, always buying her things, but that just wasn't what she wanted. She _wanted_ to fight, to scream so hard her throat hurt. She wasn't used to this – this ideal relationship. She wanted out for the longest time, but he would never deserve that. Not that he deserves _this_.

As Rory dressed, she thought deeply. She knew Tristin wasn't being serious; he couldn't be. Why hadn't he told her before, if he had. He couldn't possibly have any feelings for her; she was a nobody at that school and he was on the top of the social ladder. Why did he even go for her in the first place?

When she asked if he could come over the first time, she knew that he was surprised, to say the least. He came and they got pretty intimate. She knew it was wrong – hell, she thought she wouldn't do anything like that her whole life. But it was so tempting: playing with fire. Her mother or father could have come home during, or her boyfriend could have called, but they didn't. That just made her want it more, to live on the edge, to be alert at all time.

It wasn't like Tristin wanted anything serious. He's always wanted her body. And here, after a year of being at Chilton, he had gotten it. Sure, she had always been attracted to him, that's why she didn't call anyone else that day. She didn't want that that kind of relationship she had always seen on the drama shows: the woman having an affair and having to choose between them. She knew she was safe with Tristin, well, at least she thought.

Someone wrapped their arms around her from the back. She turned around, startled. "Oh, hello Mychal, I didn't hear you come in."

He shrugged and kissed her, "I wanted to surprise you."

"It worked."

He chuckled but noticed her facial expression. "Is anything the matter?"

She shook her head, "No, not that I know of."

"You just look like something's wrong." He looked at her with his unoriginal brown eyes and normal brunette hair. His skin was the regular shade of beige that pretty much everyone had. His voice was at the pitch that all his friends had and his smile was like everyone's in the yearbook. His laugh wasn't anything special either. It wasn't like… well, it wasn't like Tristin's, for example. Tristin had depth. Tristin's eyes were deep, they held feeling and emotion. His blonde hair was perfect and his laugh stood out of all of them.

"I assure you that nothing's wrong. Don't worry." She kissed him fast and escaped to put a Hot Pocket in the microwave and retreat to find something on the television.

"So how was school?" she asked him, an hour later, long after they got situated on the couch of her house.

"Same as always, I guess. I can't complain. You?"

"It's Chilton."

He laughed. "Yeah, I figured as much."

"Hey, I still have some homework, if you don't mind leaving?" She knew it was rude, but still she had to ask.

"Uhm…" he looked puzzled, though she had asked him this numerous times before, "sure."

She watched him as he got up awkwardly and kissed her goodnight. She had always gotten him out of the house by eight o'clock, in fear of him wanted to get closer than what she wanted. They have had sex before, but haven't for a while, Rory feeling uneasy about the situation around him. She knew he knew that she didn't want to, but he never asked and she never clarified it.

She grabbed the phone on the way to her bedroom in her fancy house. There were a total of nine bedrooms, some of which she hadn't even been in: what's the use? Her room was her favorite in the entire four thousand square foot house. It was made out of antiques; an old, brass bed frame hugged the wall while expensive, ancient maps hung with clocks saying what time it was there hung above it. She had a huge walk in closet filled with everything her mother shopped for her in it. Rory didn't get why she had all these clothes: all she needed was her uniform. But it was her mother and father's money, so Rory didn't complain.

She sat down on her King sized bed and looked up at the ceiling as she pressed the familiar buttons without looking at the phone. She pressed the speaker phone button and heard the ring tone fill the room. Two rings and he picked up.

"_Hello?_"

"Hey," she smiled at his voice.

"_Hey._" He didn't put any emotion into it.

"What's wrong?"

"_Nothing_."

"Liar."

"_Maybe_."

"Tell me, Tristin."

"_No. Look, I have to go._" Rory heard a faint voice in the background but she could understand it perfectly. It was a girl and she distinctly said 'Come on, Tristin' in the way a girl would say as to….

He was having sex. With another girl. And though it shouldn't have bothered her, it did. She heard a click and then dialtone.

A/N: Okay, so I'm back with another story. It's kind of like my other one, but different, in the sense that the boyfriend isn't abusive and other minor details. I hope yall like it enough to review.


	2. A Movie Script Ending

"Christopher!" Rory heard Lorelei yell from the kitchen.

"Mom, he's not home yet," she informed.

"Well, get in here so we can have some dinner."

Rory walked solemnly down the hall and into their kitchen. It had green walls with red and white checkered everything else. This room had been decorated by interior designers, much like the rest of the house.

"I've already eaten," Rory said, looking down at the feast her mother had brought home.

Her mother sighed and looked down. "Oh," was her simple reply.

Rory bowed her head. "I guess I'm a little hungrier, though. Maybe I'll have just a bite."

Lorelei's face brightened. "Okay, I'll have Tessa make you a plate."

A half an hour later, Rory and Lorelei were laughing and eating together. "So, then he got up and left!" Lorelei laughed.

"No way!" Rory replied, giggling right along.

"Yeah…" the conversation had died down and the two were eating through the food on their plates. "So how's Mychal?"

"Oh, he's fine. He had work tonight, so he couldn't come over."

"That's a shame. Did you do anything exciting at school?"

"No, but I did have another debate with Paris on something that I don't even remember now. But I won," Rory chuckled a bit.

"That's always fun."

Rory nodded and focused on her dish that was half gone. She wasn't hungry anymore – she was never hungry. But she loved Lorelei; she had always been there for her, and vise versa. Lorelei had always liked Mychal. She called him the Perfect First Boyfriend. Rory had met him at one of her grandparents' parties. He went to a school across town, making it easier on Rory to hook up with Tristin behind his back.

He was good to her, though. She knew he would never cheat on her or anything. To an extent, Rory felt a little bad. That feeing would diminish when she saw Tristin in the halls at school or… in her bedroom, or… in her bed…

The next day at school was a long one. All of Rory's classes were boring, and she couldn't stop thinking about the girl in the background of Tristin's house. She hadn't even thought about Tristin seeing other girls than her outside of this, and this was a huge wake up call. She couldn't believe it. How could she have been so stupid? Of _course_ there were others: it's Tristin, the most popular guy in school.

"Hey," she heard him behind her. She could tell her was in her doorway. She turned to him from her bed and smiled.

"Hello."

He walked up to her and kissed her passionately, pushing her down to lie on her bed. She knew it was artificial, that all he wanted was another piece off ass, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted him enough to get past that.

Later, they were lying in her bed, her head on his chest, and his arm around her. His other hand was playing with her hair. "Do you ever feel guilty?" He said it very quiet, almost as if he didn't want her to even hear him.

She got up on her elbow, on the other side of him and looked into his eyes. "I… what?"

"Sometimes I do," he said, just as softly.

Rory bowed her head and put her chin to his chest so she could still look at him.

"I mean, of all the girls at school, I'm bangin' the one that's unattainable." Tristin put his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. Rory put her head to the side and reached up to rub his chest hairs.

"Sometimes," Rory replied after a long five minutes of silence.

Tristin nodded, though Rory couldn't see him. "Look, I have to go soon. My sister needs babysitting when my parents have to work late and the maid leaves."

Rory changed positions once more to look back at him.

"Do you want to help me?" He asked it; she would have never thought the words would have escaped his mouth.

"I… uhm…" Rory didn't know what to say.

"I mean, you probably don't, right?" he shrugged, "but I thought I'd put the offer out there." He was approaching this like it meant nothing, like he _wasn't_ asking her to come over to his house, like he _didn't_ just ask her to help _him_, like it was just something normal, that they did all the time.

"Uhm, yeah. Just… just let me put something on."

They both dressed, turned from each other, so they weren't looking at one another.

"After you," Tristin said when they exited the house to his car.

As Rory got in the passenger seat, Tristin turned on the radio. Death Cab for Cutie filled the automobile and she saw him start to mouth the words occasionally. They got to his own driveway only a few minutes into the song "Why You'd Want to Live Here," a song that Rory actually liked. She never knew Tristin would actually like that kind of music.

The entered his house without a word and an anxious young girl jumped on Tristin. "You're home!"

He kissed her cheek and put her down. "Jeni, this is Rory. Rory, Jeni."

"Nice to meet you," Rory squatted to the kid's height. "I really like those shoes," she pointed to Jeni's pink Keds.

"Thank you very much, Rory."

"You're welcome."

Later on in the night, Rory went into the kitchen to grab something to drink. Tristin was in the bathroom and she thought it rude to even ask: she had never asked him if he wanted anything to drink when he was at her home.

She looked into the refrigerator, finding some orange juice she would like to have. She looked in a couple of cabinets for the cups, but as she got to the forth one or so, some put their arms around her and kissed her neck intensely. Her knees weakened at the contact. She turned around and they kissed deeply. He propped her up on the counter and he started to lift the shirt over her head.

"In your kitchen?" she breathed.

"Who's going to walk in?"

That seemed to be good enough of an answer, because she let him dispose of her top.

Her phone rang and Tristin sighed and turned around.

"Hello?"

"_Rory_?"

"Hey Mom. What's up?"

"_Uhm, you're not here._"

"Oh, I'm at Tristin DuGrey's house. We were working on a project for school."

She talked for another minute or so, looking at Tristin trying to leisurely find something to eat. She knew he wasn't hungry for food.

Rory hung up. "It's my time to go."

Tristin nodded nonchalantly. "Do I have to take you back home?"

"No, she's sending a car for me."

He kissed her for the last time that night. "I'll see you around."

"You sure will."

A/N: I still have no idea where I'm taking this story, as I usually make up a plot while writing. If you have any helpful suggestions, please tell in your review.


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